


the stars in your eyes

by lilabut



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mild Language, New Year's Eve, Past Child Abuse, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilabut/pseuds/lilabut
Summary: If he's being honest, the prospect of spending New Year's Eve with Carol instead of all alone in his room with cold pizza sounds like the best damn thing ever.(high school AU)





	

It isn't much different from any other New Year's Eve. In fact, it probably ranks in the top five. The heater in his room is working again after he spent the last two months trying to fix it, he still has a few slices of pizza left, his hand is buried in a bag of potato chips, sprawled out on his bed watching some random show on his laptop that Carol's Netflix had suggested. Something about a plane crash and polar bears and he hasn't really paid much attention.

 

The old man is out of the house, and from past experiences he knows he won't see him again until a few days into the new year. Bastard is probably crawling over some big-breasted girl half his age right now, stinking of stale smoke and too much alcohol. And Merle is locked up again, this time for some botched drug deal, so it's just him. Him and food and Carol's Netflix password.

 

All in all, it could be a lot worse.

 

The buzzing of his phone startles him a little and he scrambles to pick it up off the floor, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile when he sees Carol's picture lightening up the screen. She hates it, has asked him more than once to delete it, but there's no way in hell he ever will. It's his favorite picture of her, nose scrunched up in laughter, face half-hidden behind a mess of auburn curls, blue eyes framed by dark lashes, a light blush rosy on her cheeks and the sunlight bringing out a constellation of freckles.

 

He'd frame it and put it up on his wall if it didn't make him look like a creep.

 

She moved here a little over a year ago and his life hasn't been the same ever since. Like a breeze of fresh air in the summer she burst into his miserable life, turning it all upside down. He's never cared more about anyone, and it's a scary thought to have all his happy memories tied to one person.

 

At first, he had tried to fight her. When she sat down next to him in pretty much every class they shared, he'd tried ignoring her as much as he could (not that it was her fault that nobody else wanted to sit next to him and the only free spot was always by his side). Truth be told, he felt sorry for her. After all, she didn't really get to chose _not_ to sit next to him.

 

But she never seemed to be bothered by any of it, by his worn clothes and ancient school books and disgruntled answers. Or by his family's reputation that follows him around day by day. Drunks, rednecks, a bunch of violent bastards.

 

For some reason, she chose to ignore all that and tried to be friends with him instead. Made small talk and asked him questions, offered her help when he was clearly lost, hell, even brought him food that he eventually stopped refusing. Over time, she wore him down with her smiles and kindness and the genuine concern and lack of prejudice she showed.

 

She slowly wormed her way into his heart, and he can't even remember what life was like without her.

 

He quickly pauses the episode, swiping his thumb over his phone's screen. _Bit early, isn't it?_ he says with a quick glance at the clock on his wall. It's just after ten, nowhere near the time for new year's wishes.

 

_Not why I'm calling,_ Carol replies, sound exasperated. In the background, he can hear muffled music which he assumes is from the party at Rick Grimes' place she suggested he go to with her. He'd refused, more than once.

 

Carol is good friends with Lori, Rick's girlfriend, and while he guesses the guy wouldn't have complained about a Dixon at his party for Carol's sake, he knows he wouldn't have been welcome. Being friends with Carol has eased some of the tension he usually faced at school, things aren't as bad anymore. Still, he sure as hell ain't part of their fancy group of friends – and as much as Carol likes to brush it off he knows she has to deal with a lot of shit over being friends with him.

 

_Y'all right?_ he asks, wiping his greasy hand on his shirt.

 

_Yeah, I'm fine,_ she sighs, and he can practically see the frustration on her face. _But you were right. This party sucks. Big time._ He had told her that more than once over the past two weeks, but mostly as a reason to talk himself out of going – assuming it would suck for _him_ to be there and that it would suck for her to bring him along. He didn't exactly expect she'd have a bad time there. _I think I'm the only person here who isn't drunk. Rick threw up all over the couch,_ she explains with a disgusted sound, and Daryl scoffs at the mental image that pops up. _And Ed keeps hitting on me._

 

Daryl instantly feels his face harden at the mention of that bastard. Ed Peletier. Captain of the football team, rich parents, most popular asshole in school. He's had his eyes set on Carol for the past few weeks, and the thought alone makes him feel sick. The other day, he overheard her mentioning to Lori that she wouldn't mind going on a date with him if he asked, and he'd been startled by that. Thought she knew better than to believe she'd be anything more than another notch in that guy's belt.

 

If anything, though, it's made him realize even more that he doesn't stand a chance with her, even if he had the guts to actually fucking try. For as much as he values their friendship, he can't deny that for the first time in his life he allows himself to consider wanting more.

 

_Thought ya liked him,_ he says, trying hard to sound nonchalant about it, like it doesn't bother him at all.

 

She gives him a humorless laugh in return, her next words sounding awfully bitter. _Well, let's just say he made me change my mind._

 

Anger settles in his bones as he imagines what the guy has done. _He didn't... Like... I mean-_ He stutters his way through all the questions he isn't brave enough to straight out ask, hoping that she gets the idea.

 

_I'm fine, Daryl,_ she reassures him, and he thinks he can hear a smile in her voice. _He was just annoying. And he smells like pot,_ she adds, probably rolling her eyes. _I'm hiding in the bathroom._

 

He can't help a slight laugh at the mental imagine of Carol tucked away in a bathroom somewhere. _Sounds great._

 

_I should've listened to you._

 

_Nah,_ he mumbles, sitting up to lean against the wall, his neck beginning to tense. _Could've been fun._

 

The music in the background is getting louder, the bass and drumbeats distorted over the phone. _Could you..._ Carol pauses for a moment, and he sits up straighter, curious. _Are you up to anything? I mean, if you're not... Maybe..._ She sounds more like him in this moment, clearly avoiding the question she really wants to ask. That's not like her at all and it only sparks his interest more. _Come rescue me?_ she finally asks with a soft giggle accompanying it.

 

He blushes instantly, simply can't help it even though he knows she's just teasing him. She does it all the time, and this is pretty tame compared to some of the stuff she sometimes throws at him without warning. _Stop. Ya don't need no rescuing._

 

Her laughter makes his stupid heart stutter in his chest. _Pick me up, though? Maybe we... I'd much rather spend the rest of the night with you._ If he was blushing before he is fucking glowing now. It doesn't matter that she surely didn't mean it to come out the way it did, but she does sound sincere. And if he's being honest, the prospect of spending New Year's Eve with Carol instead of all alone in his room with cold pizza sounds like the best damn thing ever.

 

_I'll be there in ten,_ he says, biting back a curse at how desperately eager he sounds. He shuts his laptop with his foot and swings his legs off the bed, nearly knocking the bag of chips onto the floor.

 

_Thank you, Daryl._ Carol's voice is soft and sounds all happy, and he begs and prays that the damn blush on his cheeks will go away before he gets there.

 

_Ain't no big deal._

 

* * *

 

She is sitting on the sidewalk by the time he makes it to the Grimes' house, her legs tucked into her chest and her chin resting on her knee. The house is glowing like a goddamn firecracker, all the windows lit up, muffled music filling the air, a bunch of people scattered on the large front porch.

 

He pulls over and Carol quickly scrambles to her feet, pulling open the rusty passenger door and allowing a gust of cold air to hit him. _Thank you for this,_ she gasps as she climbs into the truck, cheeks glowing from waiting outside. She looks even prettier than usual, he notes, her auburn hair in looser curls that drape over her shoulders, lips pinker and shinier, her long legs clad in black jeans that he thinks really shouldn't be that tight, the rest of her hidden under her thick coat.

 

_That bad?_ he chuckles, trying not to stare at her like a complete idiot.

 

She rolls her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. _Don't ask._

 

He watches her for a moment longer as she sinks into the worn leather seat, some preppy song on the radio tickling his fingers and they start drumming against the wheel in the same upbeat rhythm. _So, what do you wanna do?_

 

_Anything,_ she sighs, her head tilting to the side to face him although her eyes flutter shut. _I don't care. Do you have an idea?_

 

Fuck. He'd hoped that she would have an idea, but now he's stuck with coming up with something. He sucks at this, at planning.... What is he planning exactly? They are together all the time, and it never requires any planning. It's easy, being with her. _Ya like fireworks?_ he asks, biting the inside of his cheek when he realizes what a dumb question that is to ask someone on New Year's Eve – and who doesn't like them anyway? Carol, however, doesn't seem irritated at all. She never does around him, and that irritates _him_ like hell.

 

_They're so loud,_ she replies, fastening her seat belt. _But they look pretty._ He doesn't miss the way she's kneading her bare hands in her lap, and he quickly turns the heater up, feeling the warm, dry air filling the car. _Why?_

 

He hesitates for a moment. The idea is suddenly crystal clear in his head, but he's never told anyone about this place. But he trusts her, more than anyone (hell, she's the only person he's ever trusted). _Know a good place to watch. There's a clearing in the woods up by the quarry,_ he explains, watching as curiosity sparks in her eyes. _We'd have ta walk a bit._

 

He used to go there all the time to watch the fireworks from far away, but he hasn't gone the last two years. There'd been a blizzard last year, and the year before he... He doesn't remember much except laying face down in bed with pain wrecking his body, shooting from his back into his limbs as the noise of fireworks buzzed around him.

 

Carol makes a frustrated sound. _Daryl, I don't think I can-_ Pointing down at her feet, he catches a glimpse of her toes, painted bright pink and peeking out from the most impractical pair of shoes he's ever seen.

 

He grins, earning himself an annoyed pout in response. _Still got them ugly ass boots in my trunk,_ he reveals, pointing at the back. She'd left them there two weeks ago after he took her hunting, ugly things with fake fur on them, caked in mud.

 

_I was looking for those!_ she exclaims, nudging her elbow into his ribs. It doesn't hurt one bit and he doesn't shy away from her touch anymore, as rare as it is, but his body still tenses a little. Carol seems to consider his suggestions for a moment, and then her features soften as a smile curls her lips – making his foolish heart stutter. _Okay then. Let's go._

 

* * *

 

The moonlight barely fights its way through the canopy of the trees above, void of leafs but the branches thick enough to form a cocoon above them. Roots and undergrowth flickers in and out of view as the flashlight moves back and forth, Daryl's hand a little clammy around it. He hopes it's dark enough for Carol not to make out the flush on his cheeks and hear the nervous pounding of his heart that's been his constant companion for the last ten minutes since she grabbed his hand, holding on to him on the uneven ground.

 

_You did see the sign, right?_ she asks, sounding mostly amused but he doesn't miss the slight amount of actual concern hidden behind the remark. Not for the first time, he finds himself confronted with the fear that she doesn't really trust him. After all, he's the town drunk's creepy, grumpy loner son, currently leading her into the woods in the dead of night with nobody knowing where they are.

 

_Been there for years,_ he explains, referring to the warning sign on the side of the hiking path they'd just left. _'s gonna be fine._ He tries to push away his doubts, telling himself that she wouldn't be holding on so tightly if she was really afraid of him. _Just don't get to close to the edge._

 

_The edge?_ she gasps, her fingers squeezing his and he's even more grateful now that the flashlight is too weak to illuminate his gleaming face.

 

* * *

 

_This is just... I can't believe nobody else is here._

 

There is awe in her voice, and he knows the view deserves it. But all he can look at is her, bathed in moonlight, lips parted and blue eyes wide and stunned.

 

The clearing around them is framed by the line of trees leading back into the forest, cutting off abruptly with a rocky cliff that leads down into the quarry below. Beyond that, their home town rests quietly, lights twinkling from afar.

 

_Pretty far off track,_ he mutters absent-mindedly, almost entirely focused on her soft hand that's still curled around his own. Out here, he feels a little braver, forces himself to be. Gathering all his courage he dares to brush his thumb – calloused and rough – over the back of her hand for the fragment of a second. He nearly sighs in relief when she tightens her hold on his hand in response.

 

A smile curves her lips, and she turns to eye him with curiosity, the moon reflecting in her eyes. _It's amazing._

 

They look at each other for a little too long after that, and he wonders briefly if she's as enthralled by him as he is by her. But of course she isn't. Why would she be? Ain't nothing special about him.

 

_Come on,_ he says a little gruffer than he intended, suddenly uncomfortable under her penetrating gaze, and he drops her hand, grabbing the blanket he'd tucked under his arm. Without looking at her, he spreads it on the ground. _Sit._

 

As he presses the scratchy blanket into the ground, Daryl suddenly wishes he'd have had more time to plan this. He'd have brought more blankets for a start. Maybe gathered some wood to make a small fire. She must be hungry, he wonders. Damn. He would've gotten some boxes of that Thai stuff she likes so much, some steaming coffee in a thermos – it's a mild day but still too cold to sit around outside for too long. He'd have made it more comfortable – maybe they could have made s'mores. She mentioned the other day she never made any over an actual fire before. That might've been worth the trip. Not just a thin blanket on a rough ground and his company.

 

It's the way it is now, though, and he sits down on the hard ground, watching as Carol does the same by his side. She tucks her long legs under her body, and he stretches his out, boots digging into the earth, his palms pressing into the coarse fabric of the blanket to balance himself.

 

_Shit, I left my phone in the car,_ Carol hisses then, ending the silence and startling him. _You got yours?_

 

_Yeah,_ he mutters, feeling the weight of it in his pocket. _Why?_

 

She gives him a look like he just asked the world's silliest question, tilting her head to the side just barely. _We need a clock._

 

_Ain't gonna need that,_ he reassures her, clearly remembering the view, how breathtaking it used to be. The loud noises fading away, not as scary from this distance. All that remained were the colors, clear and vibrant the night sky. _We'll know._

 

They sit in silence for a little while, both looking up at the sky where he could count the stars if he wanted. This, he realizes, this is already the best New Year's Eve he has ever had, just sitting here with Carol. A little movement tears his eyes from the constellations above, and he spots her rubbing her arms through her coat. _Ya cold?_

 

She offers him a tight-lipped smile and a slight shrug of her shoulders. _A little._

 

He knew it, should have thought of something else to bring along. _Here,_ he says, beginning to shrug out of his own jacket when a small hand on his arm momentarily stops him.

 

_No, it's fine,_ she reassures him, gently shaking her head. _You'll be cold._ He just raises his eyebrows at that, as if he's ever complained about being cold before. Despite her protests, he shrugs out of his jacket, ignoring her sigh of defeat. _Then let's share,_ she suggests when he holds the jacket out for her, patched up and worn, covered in specks of dirt here and there.

 

He doesn't quite understand how the hell they're going to share a jacket. _Huh?_ he huffs, feeling like a complete idiot. He lets her take the lead, watches as she takes the jacket from him and swings it behind herself. His heart picks up speed when she edges closer to him until her side presses into his from shoulder to hip, and she spreads the jacket across both their shoulders, answering his question.

 

He is sure she felt him tensing, and the way she looks up at him shyly only confirms that. _Okay?_ she asks with a breathy tone to her voice, so close to him that he can see the stars in her eyes and feel the warmth of her breath. His hands dart from the blanket to his lap, fingers fidgeting there nervously.

 

_Okay,_ he replies on a hiccuping exhale, quickly looking away to hide his embarrassment.

 

Time passes slowly after that, but boredom is the last thing on Daryl’s mind. If he could freeze this moment, he would. Slowly, he's starting to relax next to Carol, some of the tension in his body easing. Briefly, he wonders if she can at least absorb some of his body heat, but the thought is cut short when she tilts her head to rest it on his shoulder.

 

He is so startled by the move that he completely forgets to tense, to jolt away, to feel cornered. Instead, he feels warmth seeping into his veins, goosebumps raising all over his skin when her hands come up to curl around his forearm. All he can do is remain immobile, and he hopes she doesn’t mistake it for disinterest. Prays that she understands, because for the first time in his life he understands what it's like to want to be close to someone. It's too much, though, and he can't fight his bodies reaction, well conditioned to know no touch without pain. But this, hell – this doesn't hurt one bit.

 

_I shouldn't have gone to the party._ Carol's quiet words carry more sadness than annoyance, and he dares a glimpse down at her to see her face, frustrated when he can't make out much from this angle.

 

_Could've been fun._

 

That draws a sigh from her, her finger brushing a circle on his wrist through the cotton of his sweater as if it's the most natural thing in the world. It isn't. It's new and wondrous and he shivers at the slight touch. _Not like this,_ she says with a low voice that's barely more than a whisper, and he wonders if that's really true. If she enjoys this – being here with him – as much as he is. Sure, they are friends, they have a good time together, he guesses. Not like he's got a clue what she's doing with her other friends. He ain't got any other friends to compare this to.

 

He never understood why she bothered with his company in the first place. Thought it was pity for a while, but then she was too persistent for that, kept on with the whole charade even when people started saying nasty things to her. He remembers the day he punched Phillip Blake straight in the face for calling her a crack whore, earning himself bloody knuckles and detention. She'd waited for him outside the principal's office that afternoon – he'd been so afraid she'd bolt, turn away from his violent ass in disgust. Instead, she'd smiled shyly, curled her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. Breathed _thank you_ into the crook of his neck before quickly pulling away.

 

Remembering how good that had felt – all of her against all of him, warm and soft – he feels a flutter of bravery in his chest again. Much like before, when he'd dragged his thumb over the back of her hand, he makes a small move, but it takes him an alarming amount of guts to do it. To lift his arm and wrap it around her shoulder. To stop her shivering, he tells himself. It's his excuse.

 

She doesn't tense up at all, doesn't move to back away, either. Quite the opposite, she burrows further into what he doesn’t dare call an embrace, her body melding into his side like she belongs there.

 

Fuck. Merle would smack him if he could hear his thoughts now.

 

Both of them startle a little when the first fireworks go off not a second later, shooting into the dark sky and exploding there into a million sparkles. The noise is distant but still enough to disrupt the silence. Not as harsh as down below.

 

More lights begin to fill the sky, pinks and blues and yellows, different shapes and sizes, spreading or coiling, raining down on the city below. It's unobscured by houses and trees, hiding the stars in a cloud of bright lights.

 

_Happy new year,_ he says quietly, looking down at the crown of Carol's head and circling his thumb lightly over her upper arm much like he has done before to her hand. He doesn't even remember deciding to do it this time.

 

Carol lifts her head enough to look up at him, and he swallows when that leaves barely any space between them. _Happy new year, Daryl,_ she whispers, her breath warm and damp, and his eyes are helplessly glued to her now. To the blue of her eyes, wide open and curious. His heart pounds a violent rhythm when her eyes flicker down to his lips for a heartbeat.

 

He's convinced he's stuck in one of his annoying, repetitive dreams when she begins to lean in closer (the kind of dream where she holds his hand and smiles with mischief and mouths kisses down his neck like he ain't a complete waste of her time). Her entire body shifts, tilting towards his, her eyes still performing their little dance of flickering between his widened eyes and now parted lips. Instead of pulling away, though, he mirrors her, leans in closer until they breach the last remaining gap and her lips press against his.

 

Neither of them moves for a moment, but his mind spins at a hundred miles per hour. Carol is soft and warm and her fingers curl more determinedly around his arm. He doesn't have the slightest clue how to proceed, how to make this good. Hasn't kissed anyone in a long, long time and he hated it then, some of Merle's drunk hook ups shoving her tongue down his throat. This is different. It's Carol. He _wants_ this.

 

Mercifully, she begins to move then, just barely brushing her lips against his, all gentle and sweet, and when his arm curls tighter to pull her closer, it feels natural.

 

She sighs into the kiss, the sound of it sending a shiver down the length of his spine, and without thinking he raises his free hand to cup her cheek. It's flushed and smooth against his calloused palm and fuck he always wanted to know what her hair would feel like. So, with trembling fingers, he slides his hands into her curls, smooth as silk and she must've liked it cause her lips part in response.

 

When her tongue darts out to trace his bottom lip, he can't hold back his groan or the way his arms tighten around her, his hand cradling her head now, but she doesn't seem to mind at all. Hums instead and pulls herself up a little with a hand curled around his neck. Cool fingers run down the back of his scalp, the small hairs rising from the onslaught of _good_ he feels.

 

He can't believe this is really happening, still half expects to wake up in his crappy bed in a second, all alone – even as Carol kisses him back eager and curios, her tongue slipping into his mouth when he opens up. She tastes like cherries and vanilla and he can't believe he never knew a person could feel this soft.

 

Purely by instinct, he moves his hand from her arm down to her waist, hovering there shyly, not sure what's appropriate. They have crashed over so many lines in the last minute, he doesn't want to do anything wrong just because he's clueless. Carol seems to sense his struggle, pulling him closer by the neck and deepening the kiss. Giving him permission, he figures, quickly slipping his hand under her coat to press into her waist, whatever she's wearing smooth under his palm.

 

A gasp tears from her throat and her entire body shudders in his arms then, violently so and he pulls away with wide eyes. He must've hurt her, he thinks, taking in the sight of her – flushed cheeks and swollen lips and looking at him with wide eyes. The hand on his neck remains.

 

_Y'all right?_ he asks with a hoarse voice, fear mingling with all the adrenaline still rushing through his veins. She gives him a weak nod, and he realizes then that he never moved his hand away from her waist.

 

He quickly fixes his mistake, drawing his hand back as if he'd been burned (and damn it if he doesn't feel like it). Carol, however, trembles.

 

_You're cold._ It's not a question, and he looks away from her before she can confirm it. Putting some space between them, he shifts away, her hand falling limply from his neck. He fucked up. Must've been too rough, or maybe she just realized what she was doing. Kissing _him_ out of all people when she could be making out with Ed Peletier at some fancy party half the school is attending.

 

He can't look at her now, starts to push himself up off the ground instead. _Let's head back._

 

_No!_ He almost forgot about the hand still on his arm, but now her fingers tighten around it and he stills, looking at her with confusion. _Why did- I don't... I don't want to go home, yet._ Her voice is small and quiet and he's distracted for a moment by the way the fireworks illuminate her skin in vibrant colors. She looks so damn beautiful, and it makes him forget how confused he is. There is a pleading look in her eyes and despite his shame he melts away, wondering if he might have misread her before. Maybe she liked – but no, that can not be. Could it?

 

_Y'ain't gotta,_ he murmurs, voice a little too high, and he swallows the lump in his throat. He probably already fucked this up, the only real friendship he's ever had, so he might as well go all out. Taking her hand in his, he doesn't expect her to eagerly curl her fingers around his. Slightly encouraged, he forces himself to speak, although it's quiet and pitiful. _Can go wherever ya want. Whatever ya wanna do._ It's true. He'd drive her all the way to California if she wanted, or back to the damn party, which is more likely.

 

But she suggests neither. Instead, shyness crosses her face, her eyes flickering down to the blanket on the ground. It's not really like her but he can hardly focus, not with the way her thumb is drawing circles in his palm. _Is- Is your dad home?_ she asks eventually, quiet and innocent, but drawing her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment that knocks the air out of his lungs.

 

He stares at her with a dumfounded expression, and suddenly there's no space between them at all, the fireworks and the cold and all his doubts forgotten. _No,_ he breathes, so quiet that he's surprised she can even hear it.

 

Her face lights up like the sky and she gives him a shy smile, the kind he always imagined in his dreams. The kind he never expected her to really give him.

 

He doesn't ever want to look away.

**Author's Note:**

> This is finished for now, but I'm kinda sorta pretty in love with these two here, so maybe - just maybe - I'll add a chapter or two to it in the future. 
> 
> I wish you all a wonderful 2017 ❤


End file.
